A Robin's Vengeance
by Harley Grace
Summary: The heroes we know and love suffer a terrible loss in a battle against the Court of Owls, which leaves Gotham in ruins. Two years later, they still struggle to rebuild, to heal. But what if everything they believed in was wrong? What if they had been deceived? To what lengths will they go to save their friend, mentor... father?
1. Awakening

_**So, once again, I am publishing a new story although I have way too many that still need to be updated and completed.**_

_**If you are someone who reads my other works, then there's something you need to know. Or if you're just reading this in general:**_

_**I'm kind of going through a shitty, rough time right now. So I'm sorry if things aren't updated, or if I end up doing something completely different. I kind of do whatever I'm up to now.**_

_**Sorry, really. **_

_**I hope you can understand. :)**_

_**Anyhow, I hope you find this story enjoyable. I wrote 3 chapters in one go so you wouldn't have to wait too long. ;)**_

* * *

_**CHAPTER 1- AWAKENING**_

Wow.

Okay. Okay. _Breathe._

Shit, that hurts. Just keep going. Come on.

Inhale, exhale. In, out.

My God, it _burns_. It hurts, it hurts, it _hurtsssss!_

God dammit, _think!_ What to do in these situations?

Right. Senses.

What can I see? Nothing.

Darkness, then. I'm not blind, am I?

…That would be unfortunate.

Which day is it? Think back, Bruce. Back, back, back…

27th. 27th of October. That's it. Well done, Bruce. You remember the date. You really _are_ the Batman. (sarcasm)

Is it _still_ the 27th though?

More importantly- _where am I?_

_Am_ I even?

'To be or not to be… that is the question.'

Reciting Shakespeare. My mind is clearly not intact.

Right. Sounds. What can I hear? It's there. There is something. An irritating background drone. Humming and beeping.

Machinery. A heart monitor.

That narrows things down considerably.

Hospital? Asylum?

Crap. Barry would love that. Always said it was a matter of time…

Good God.

Barry. Clark. Arthur. Diana. Ollie. J'onn. Hal. Alfred. Richard.

_Where the hell am I?_ Where the hell are _they_?

"…today marks the anniversary of the devastating battle, two years ago. In honor of the dead and our fallen hero, the Jus tice League will find themselves here later at 12pm, where Superman himself will give a speech. This is Vicki Vale reporting live from Gotham Central Park. Stay tuned for more."

What…

"We need to go soon. The court doesn't want the city idolizing him."

"We should have done something last year at the memorial. The city has become dangerous."

"The court underestimated the people."

"They underestimated _him_, and the mark he would leave. We should have acted sooner."

"Today will have to do."

"In broad daylight?"

"The court gives the orders."

"Owls don't belong in the sun."

"Neither do memorials for creatures of the night. Gotham belongs to the court. It is time we let those foolish heroes know that they have become our prey."

"They've been hunting us down as it is."

"Vengeance… it twists the mind. Especially within the Bat-family, as people have come to call it."

"Not so much of a family now."

A third voice joins the conversation.

"Get ready to dispatch. The 27th will hold new meaning after this day."

Muffled footsteps, the clanking of armor. It's all muffled. The TV. The voices.

God, breathing still hurts. Everything hurts.

But I'm feeling. That means I'm alive. Which is good.

I think…

Toes. Fingertips. Shoulders. Legs. Arms. Neck.

Perhaps _not_ feeling would have been better; it's as if I'm already burning in hell.

Eyelashes brush against my cheeks.

Cold, I realize. I am unbearably cold and yet still burning.

More sound, still muffled.

Without feeling or thinking, my eyes open.

Light and frozen glass. Splintered patterns.

I'm trapped.

And that is all I can think of when my sore muscles tense, and instinct takes over.

_Get out,_ my mind screams. As if I have to be told.

How though?

I see a handle. Convenient. Before I even realize what I am doing, I'm pulling it.

The glass before me hisses open. An alarm blares.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I register someone screaming "He's awoken from cryo-sleep!", but I'm long gone.

Down white halls- unnaturally white.

I find myself in a labyrinth of winding and twisting corridors, and I panic.

Batman doesn't panic, I remind myself. And just like that, I am calm again.

Calm enough to realize that yes, it is the 27th.

But not the 27th I remember.

_This_ 27th of October is two years into the future.

Now the present.

I've been asleep for two years.


	2. Pain Demands To Be Felt

_**CHAPTER 2- PAIN DEMANDS TO BE FELT**_

Wally West was not in a good mood. Truth be told, many felt the same way. It was, after all, not a happy day.

Which was a real shame really, because usually the 27th was one of those days where people ventured out to buy candy and to make finishing touches to their costumes for the much anticipated Halloween.

The most popular costume you ask? The Batsuit.

Two years in a row now, especially that first Halloween, after the devastating battle that tore Gotham to shreds.

It was still recovering.

Wally was stuck between irritation and admiration for those who wore a poor imitation of the batsuit, with floppy ears and fake six-packs.

Irritation when thoughts such as "Who are they to don his suit? They, who never knew him…" swirled around his head.

Admiration because it was as if Bat's spirit lived on.

Halloween was the night where dark spirits were strongest, or so folklore said.

But no worries. Hundreds of adorable, little Batmen were ready to protect the night, if collecting candy could be considered 'protecting'.

Either way, it was a nice thought, though perhaps a bit ridiculous.

Richard, on the other hand…

Wally sighed. What once had been the bird's favorite holiday of the year had become the fourth day after the death of his father.

That's all it would ever be to him.

And even now, two years later, Wally could do nothing to ease his best friend's suffering.

He just wanted the old Dick Grayson to come back…

He even missed his creepy laugh.

"Wally, you almost ready?" Barry, his uncle, called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Be there in a sec." He called back as he looked at his reflection. Nothing much had changed. Sure, he'd grown a little. Bit of stubble now and then (finally a man!) and his hair had grown a little bit longer.

But that was it.

He was wearing his suit, the hood down.

He wasn't attending as Wally West. No, this noon he was attending as Kid Flash.

While running to Gotham, Barry did his best to keep his face neutral in front of his nephew.

It was no secret that the Justice League considered the loss of their friend their biggest failure yet.

And it wasn't just them who thought they were to blame.

"Do you suppose Robin will show up?" He asked Wally as they whizzed between unsuspecting civilians, who felt little more than a breeze brush by.

"You know he won't." Wally responded bitterly. "Didn't do it last year. Why would he now?"

The conversation pretty much ended there. There wasn't much else to say when running towards the memorial of a very dead friend.

Oliver was the first to greet them when they reached the park. A stage had been set up beside the stone statue of The Batman. It was incredibly accurate, with his head tilted down, as if looking at the passerby's walking beneath. His cape was caught flying in the wind, one fist clutching onto the fabric, the other clenched.

Wally always thought it captured Batman's pain well. His frustration. To everyone else, most likely even the maker, it was nothing more than an epically clenched hand (if that can even be considered as epic).

But Wally saw more to it.

Or maybe he was just weird.

As for the plaque beneath, it read 'The Hero we needed, but not the one we deserved'.

_Hell yeah, you needed him alright. You'd be done for, were it not for him._ Wally couldn't help thinking this as he looked up at his former mentor, or at least the mentor of the team.

It was strange. Three years ago, Wally would have never thought that he would form a connection to the cold-hearted vigilante, often so emotionless and stoic towards the team.

But the year before his… _death_… changed things.

Maybe it was because he came over to visit Dick at the mansion more often. Maybe it was because of the creation of the team.

But in that last year, believe it or not, Batman had become a father figure to him.

And he would rather die than ever admit it to anyone, particularly to Barry…

The Bat looked back, unblinking.

Frozen in time.

That's all he would ever be.

"How're you doing, Baywatch?" Artemis's voice ripped him from his morbid thoughts.

Oh yeah. Another change; Artemis was his amazing, gorgeous, to-die-for girlfriend.

"I'm okay." He said as he drew her in and kissed her lightly. She too was dressed in her green costume. "Can't say the same for some people though."

"Robin."

"I didn't say him specifically-"

"Honey, I know that's who you meant. And I know you're worried. But _don't_ worry. I did as you asked, and kept an eye on him here, okay?" She said comfortingly as she wrapped her arms around his midsection. "No worries. He's fine. He goes on patrols with Barbara."

"So he's not acting like the living dead or anything?"

"He is very much alive and aware of his surroundings, KF."

"I don't know what I want more for him. To be numb to the pain, or…"

"I know what you mean. We need to give him time. He'll come around."

"Alright, lovey dovey time's over." Oliver ushered them towards the stage, where Gothamites were already gathering behind the barriers set up.

The League and the rest of Young Justice were already present.

"Hi Aqualad, Superboy." Wally gave them fist bumps. "Long time no see."

"We saw each other twelve hours ago." Conner responded as he frowned down at him. "After rescuing the civilians from the burning building? Remember?"

"Oh yeah." He mused. "Still. That seems like ages ago."

"Time's just slower for you." Artemis put in as they sat in their given seats before the podium. M'gaan waved at them tiredly from her seat beside Martian Manhunter.

"That's right. Because I'm, like, the _fastest_ man alive-"

"Shhh." The entire row shushed him as Superman made his way up the stage. The park fell into a state of shattering silence. For a while there was nothing. Not even a twitter of birds.

Then-

"I want you all to know that despite this being the second anniversary of… that day… that I, by all means, don't find this normal. I mean… my friend is dead. It's been so for a while. But it hasn't become my _new normal_. It just can't seem to coexist with everything else in my life. Day and night, this irritating, painful emptiness… this loss… it's always there. _Pain demands to be felt *****_. I can't get rid of pain." Superman said.

His voice was devoid of its usual patriotism; this wasn't a day to be an idol to the country, or the world. This was a day to be vulnerable. To show pain. To show the world that, though they wished to believe otherwise, their heroes weren't invincible.

"Batman," Superman continued, nearly choking on the word, "was the first real friend I had. But it didn't start out that way. I mean, when does anything every start out the way we expect it to?" This earned a little chorus of chuckles from the people present, some managing a smile through tears.

"He hated me at first." More light-hearted laughter and Superman smiled a little. "I wouldn't have expected any differently from him. It was in his nature to be distrustful. But, over the years, something changed. I noticed that there was something deeper within him, something he very clearly made an effort to keep buried. And I will tell you what it is."

The crowd was as silent as a grave now.

"By far, Batman had the emotional range of infinity times infinity." This surprised many, if not everyone. It was far from anything they had expected to hear. "It was because of this that he felt love, anger, hatred, happiness, stronger than any one of us. But fear too. There was always fear. Which is why he was the cold-hearted Bat we came to know." Silence. "He was afraid of losing. Of hurting. Of suffering. I dare you to tell me that that isn't human." No one spoke. No one even breathed. "Batman was the most human of us all. And he worried enough for us, so that we didn't have to worry. But now I _do_ wish that I had worried. That I had acknowledged the pain loss could bring. I ignored it.

Yet here we are. We, who believed we didn't fear. It's like we're being punished. Because I _do_ feel pain. I still do. And I always will. I will never, _never_ underestimate fear again. And I will never, never forget the pain I feel for not having my best friend here, by my side."

Superman blinked rapidly as he took a very deep breath. He looked at Diana, who nodded reassuringly despite her face scrunching up from the effort not to cry. Looking back at the crowd, Superman said his last words.

"May his soul finally rest in peace."

* * *

***** _**Line from 'The Fault in Our**_ S_**tars'**_, by John Green


	3. The One-Way Train

_**CHAPTER 3 –THE ONE-WAY TRAIN**_

_The sky was gone. There was only smoke, fire, and screams. No one was safe._

_Chaos. Something the Bat-family vowed to fix. It was their job, after all. To fix the injustice others created, to give wrong-doers their just reward. _

_Never death. No one deserved death, even the worst of the worst._

_Yet somehow it seemed that the people who deserved it least of all were the ones to always receive the worst punishment possible. _

_A boy clad in yellow, black, green and red pounded against the chest of the dead body that lay before him._

_His fists were clenched. His mouth was wide; screaming. _

_Anyone would have been able to sense the murderous anger that rolled off of him in thunderous waves._

_Yet still, no one seemed to understand._

"_Richard, there's nothing else you can do." Superman bent down to him and grabbed the boy's fists. He reacted instantly, hissing as he bared his teeth at the hero._

_It scared many of the bystanders. Robin's friends especially. _

_Seeing their youngest team member in the state of agony he was in chilled them to the bone._

"_Let go of him!" Wally, Kid Flash, rushed up as he angrily tried to shove the Man of Steel aside._

_He wished he hadn't._

_The body of his mentor was now in his line of sight. _

_He wanted the image to go away as he spun around. He willed it with all his might._

_But it was branded into his mind. _

_To be remembered in years to come._

"_Come back, come back, come back." Robin was now saying in heart-shattering sobs. "I'll do anything, just come back, I'll be better, I swear, I'll have your back, I'll never let you down again…"_

_He was blaming himself. _

"_Robin, it's not your fault…" M'gaan sobbed as she approached him. _

"_Go away!" He suddenly roared. Then, just as quickly, he was back to sobbing brokenly. "I'll do my homework, I'll train harder, I'll clean up my room, I'll stop stealing food from the kitchen, I won't pull any pranks."_

_It would have been funny were it not even more heart-breaking and tragic. _

"_Hey, I got more civilians to safety. Looks like the owl assassins are retreating. They're real asses. Ass-assins? Get it? Bats got 'em, right?" Ollie came swaggering into the ruin that once was the Train Station. _

_It had been beautiful, with marble floors, decorated walls and golden chandeliers. _

_Now it was nothing more than cracked stone, broken pipes, and rubble._

"_You guys look so glum! Come on, who died?" It was a joke. At least, to him it was._

_Wailing filled the corners of the station, and Ollie stopped in his tracks._

"_Shit…" Was all he could say as he saw the gathering before him._

_Then he was running, but not towards them. _

_Away._

"_Ollie, come back!" Black Canary yelled at him as she bounded after him._

"_I'm going to kill them!" He was roaring. "I'm going to tear them apart, limb from limb!"_

"_I'm sorry, Ollie." Black Canary tackled him to the ground, unable to let him out onto the battlefield in the state of mind he was in._

"_Let me go! Let me go!"_

_Young Justice could only watch frozenly. Too much was happening. Too many people. _

_Too many reactions._

_Superman. Crying. _

_Who had ever seen the one and only Superman cry? Conner wished he hadn't. Anything he thought about Superman was everything opposite from crying._

_But then again, anyone would. Cry, that is. Even someone who didn't know the person who died._

_Unless you were stone-cold, anyone would grieve after seeing the image that lay before them; a broken, beaten man, daggers impaled in his chest. Crimson everywhere, staining the floor, his cape, his gauntlets, the bat emblem on his front._

_The crumpled up piece of paper in his cold hand._

_In his confusing, rage, anger, and pain, Robin took it. He flattened it out carefully._

_And then he was screaming again, and this time with a vengeance. _

_It wasn't paper; it was a photograph. One which he'd never seen before._

_But it was there, as real as the sun and moon and stars. _

_And from it, father and son were staring up at him; a young boy, laughing joyfully as his eyes sparkled with mischief, sitting on the shoulders of a man. _

_A man he would never see smiling, laughing, talking, shouting, scolding, breathing again. _

_This thought was enough for Robin to fall to the floor as he curled up beside his father, and wept. _


End file.
